My latest F/F erotic romance tale, Almond Scent is out today!
Title: Almond Scent
Keywords: contemporary / erotic romance / lesbian
Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/19382446-almond-scent
Blurb: Lucy thought she had forgiven her past already: what happened when she was five was best left in that year, that day, that half-hour; but it continued to haunt her. She is blind to the fact that redemption has always been nearby — it smells faintly of almonds, of Nikki.
A tale of healing by the love of an older woman.
Note: explicit lesbian sex scenes. Adult material intended for readers aged 18+.
“Are you an art student?” She inquired casually.
“Me? No. I can hardly draw.” I blushed with embarrassment.
“That’s all right. Have you come for my new sketching classes?” Her wrinkles deepened at the corners of her soft blue eyes.
I hesitated. My gaze darted sideways. The paintings on the walls gave me an idea. “Do you… would you need new models?” I whispered.
She eyed the pictures around us. “For my life-drawing sessions?”
“Do you have any experience?”
Disappointment welled in the pit of my stomach as I shook my head.
“Goodie good. I love fresh meat.” Her eyes squinted into a line as she broke into laughter. “When can you start?”
From that Saturday onwards, I showed up regularly as one of her favorite models. Old lady Marion loved how I paused in mid-movement or my pseudo-dance steps as she and her students sketched me. Sometimes she would adjust my angles, while affectionately enquiring, “You sure this isn’t uncomfortable?”
I smiled inwardly as I recalled the countless awkward positions in which the men I had fucked tried to place me. This was nothing.
The peace that descended on me when I posed was incredible. None of the people around me judged me; I was simply an object to be carefully drafted and painted. The gazes that fell on my dirty body were pure and scientific; the squish of ink and so much color dabbing on cotton canvas, the friction of charcoal against paper, and the long swishing sounds of wet brushes were music to my ears. I was soothed; my mind was comforted by the notion of being useful.
Being an artistic tool helped cleanse me.
When summer ended, I was ready to clean my act up. The new academic year saw a new person: the determined, competitive and focused student in me resurfaced. The difference was so dramatic, even some of my past lays were not sure if they had banged the same woman. It did not matter to me. They faded into my past.
December and the holidays brought me home. Finally, I am ready to meet Nikki again.
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